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The one event that transitioned me from a child to an adult is when my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. This has been a long, tough period for my family but it has forced me to become the adult version of myself, and helped me realize I must take care of my grandmother. It also taught me a valuable lesson that helped me transition into an adult. As a child I would often go to my grandmother’s house and sleepover. My grandmother would make me dinner, play games with me, and help me get ready for bed. She really had an impact on my childhood and helped raise me as a child. Around my tenth birthday she started forgetting simple everyday tasks. We soon realized my grandmother could no longer live on her own and would have to
The defining moment when you transition from child to adult comes in many shapes and sizes, as for me it came when i won HOSA presidency. Being part of HOSA my junior year and my senior year being my school's HOSA chapter president taught me so much , things that will be useful in the future, like leadership as well as professionalism, “walk the walk and talk the talk” one could say. Together these two skills with the help of my fellow HOSA officers and teachers we had a blast at the Health Occupations Students of America regionals, states and, nationals.
We moved closer to her once I started school. My Grandma met my brother and me almost always once we got home from school. It was always welcoming to have a friendly face when you got home. She taught me how to read and write and once I was able to read she dedicated numerous books to me that she always recommended and had such a vivid story. On hot summer days she would take us to the beach and play in the water and sand, or have a great time running around on the park, or just going there to enjoy a nice picnic. We had such a long walk to our front door of numerous winding steps and she came up with a game to play down them. We called ...
On December 21, 2017 at 2028 hours, Officer Allday and I, Sgt. Wilson responded to 1693 Highway 90 (Fred's Pharmacy) in reference to a Malicious Mischief call.
My heart was beating and my hands were sweating. My teacher asked me a question and I wanted to cry. I didn’t know how to say my response in English and was afraid of the other kids making fun of me because I thought my accent was too strong. All the students stared. “Just answer the question” one girl murmured. Every day I’d sit in the same seat without talking. And even though I had spent a month in the same classroom I felt uncomfortable being there. I moved to the United States from the Dominican Republic when I was twelve. I knew the word for “mariposa” was “butterfly,” and I knew how to introduce myself, but that was about all. Some people would even become frustrated due to the fact they couldn’t understand me, or the other way around. Knowing how they felt about me not being able to communicate made me want to shut myself off from them.
One accomplishment that I believe marked my transition to adulthood was when I won the presidency of my junior high student council. This monumental accomplishment meant the world for me, but it also required a lot from me. For the first time in school I was required to do more than just learn, I was required to be a role model for other students, as well as a representative of the student body to the administration. In the beginning I thought such a responsibility was too much to be put in a thirteen year old. But I soon realized that I was the one who chose to run for office and therefore should be able to fulfill the commitment.
My grandparents helped me when I was a child and they would help me do my homework. When I was a child they would buy me things and take me places. They would help me do some everyday tasks like doing the dishes and making my bed. My grandparents helped shape me as a person.
If there was a turning point in my life, it probably occurred around my freshman year of high school. Before this year began I has recently received the sacrament of confirmation in the Catholic church. In my church this sacrament is seen as a final step in the process of attaining full membership into the church. We believe that through it you receive certain special gifts and insights. I broach this event because something definitely changed in me after this process. Up until freshman year I had struggled to even get all A's. I'd usually end up just shy of all A's. Suddenly, in freshman year, something just clicked. I was off to a fairly good start with all A's. Something else had changed during this year that probably affected this trend. During
While my grandmother was sick, I assisted her in anyway that I could. My grandmother had to get a surgery and afterwords couldn’t do much. So I had to help her in many ways such as walk her around, feed her, and care for her. My grandmother was in constant in pain so I stayed by her side in order to soothe her and assist her whenever she needed me. I never had family in the hospital in the past so when this occurred I was strangely very compassionate in caring for her.
Sunday mornings used to consist of lethargic snuggling underneath oversized thermal blankets while binge-watching Netflix for hours with family. Weekends were my favorite because it was the one time during the week I was able to laze in the comforting presence of my mother whom I rarely encountered because of her hectic work schedule. Since my parents divorced when I was only about five years old, I was raised by a hard-working single mother for the majority of my life, 2,614 miles away from my estranged father whom I rarely talk to except on birthdays and national holidays. Not only did my mother have to balance supporting me, but also my grandfather in the Philippines who was in critical condition after his third stroke in May of last year. My aunts and uncles could not cover the medical expenses on their own, so my mother invested as much as she could for the sake of her father. The distress and devastation my mother
5-7. It was the quarter finals at the Mississippi State Championships for individual singles, and I had just lost the first set.
The moment I stepped on the ferry was like no other. The feeling of the moisture from Lake Superior on my skin was breathtaking. I have passed Mackinac city a million times but never experienced the heart-stopping beauty of Lake Superior and Mackinac Island. When I arrived to the island there were thousands of people all around me. I have never been accustomed to how many people were around, and on such a small island. Living in Michigan for almost half my life and moving away from this experience was something I thought would never happen. I really took living there for granted. I had never realized all of the things I never did until after moving and coming back to Michigan to discover more. I moved to Wyoming the beginning of summer 2010.
After two straight days on a bus and ten weeks of training, I was still anxious to experience something that almost no one else would get to do in their lives. This was the first year I would be able to volunteer at a Native American reservation in Stockbridge, Wisconsin. This was a once in a lifetime chance to see what life was like inside a reservation, where not many outsiders were allowed into. As I first arrived, I could feel a significant difference between what their community was like, and what my own community back home was like. A certain disconnect was felt, and I couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water. Inside the four walls of the brand new community center, I almost learned more in those few days than I’ve learned in most of my life.
It is exactly seven in the morning. My alarm erupts with a harsh blast, and I am roughly dragged from the world of dreams to drudge once more through the world of the living. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and contemplate for a moment escaping back into the world of sleep – how sweet would it be to fall back on the bed, close my eyes, and drift once more through my dreams. Perhaps if I were more alert, I could have dramatized the situation, “To sleep, perchance to dream”. But frankly, I'm not awake enough to quote anyone (with perhaps the exception of Shel Silverstein), only awake enough to stumble headlong into the shower with the deepest hope that I can, with hot water, rectify my current state. I can't. The water is not arousing but soothing, relaxing my muscles and lulling me back into my quiet place of reprieve. I am a poltergeist, raised forcibly from my sleep by some ungodly force, and ready to do battle with the world
Throughout the sixteen years of my life, I have heard many stories about certain people and experiences that have changed people and their outlook on life. The people who have told these interesting and attention-grabbing stories, usually my friends and classmates, talked about how these people and experiences had a tremendous impact on them and made them more mature. The recurring theme in each story has been coming out of adolescence as a better person, either emotionally, spiritually, mentally, or some other way. This coming out of adolescence is essential in one's growth and maturity. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would have a story that would be comparable to one of my peer's stories. Just recently, I realized that, in fact, I would.
My grandmother has always been my biggest supporter throughout my life. My Grandmother is my back bone; she is the reason why I am the person that I am today. Most people hear the word grandmother and expect to see older lady with possible white hair, standing in the kitchen cooking and baking, evening sewing. My grandmother is the exact opposite of those things, she is still employed full time, enjoys making jewelry and furniture. Although she is only five two she is very witted and outspoken she never bites her tongue and will always give her opinion even if you don’t ask for it. There is a softer side to her, she will give you her last and be a listening ear day or night. Like the saying goes “to know me is to love me” and believe me